


It’s Not Considered Stealing, Unless You Get Caught

by stupidnephilimlove



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Kleptomaniac cat, Lightwoods are terrible parents, M/M, Yes you read that right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidnephilimlove/pseuds/stupidnephilimlove
Summary: Alec has recently moved into a new apartment and he loves it, except for one small thing: his things keep going missing. He thinks he might be going crazy.Or the one where Magnus’ cat keeps stealing from his neighbour.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing [Taupefox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taupefox59/pseuds/Taupefox59) beta'd this and I will be forever grateful. You pushed me to not gloss over things and you made this so, so, so much better. I'm sorry it grew to double the predicted word count.
> 
> This is the first bang I've ever had the pleasure to be a part of and it _**has**_ been a real pleasure, mainly in part to the absolutely fantastic mod [Causteek](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Causteek). Thank you for putting all this together! And for being the reason I'm addicted to writing again.
> 
> The fantastic [La_Muerta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_muerta/pseuds/la_muerta) made the cover art for this - with that paw coming out of the basket - I JUST LOVE IT.
> 
> A shout out to [Pameluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pameluke) for the recipe featured in this - I've still yet to try it out, but I will one day.
> 
> Finally, a massive thank you to the Lemon Squad for all the love and support! You're a crazy-talented bunch of fantastic people. [Please go check out all the other fics posted as part of the SHHiatusBang.](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShHiatusBang_2018) I can promise that you won't be disappointed!
> 
> The fic is completely written and posting will be complete by Sunday!

 

Alec finds the apartment building by chance. The combination of a stressful day and not paying attention culminate in him misjudging the subway stops and getting off early. Frustrated and impatient, he decides to walk home rather than wait for the next train. It’s a strange turn of events when he stops by a building, trying to orient himself, and notices an ‘Apartment Available’ sign. Some might call it fate, but Alec doesn’t believe in such things.

The thing is, he’s been sort of flirting with the idea of moving recently. Isabelle, his sister, just got engaged. Whilst Alec loves living with her, he’s begun to realise that their lives are changing and that means that his relationship with Isabelle will have to adjust a little too. He can’t exactly live with his sister and her fiancé. Well, if Isabelle has anything to say about it he can, but Alec really doesn’t want to.

Upon closer enquiry, Alec decides the apartment is perfect. Being situated in Brooklyn means it’s only a short commute into the city for work. Plus, it’s close enough that Isabelle can drop by, but not so close that she’ll essentially treat it as her second home. Or, god forbid, her first. Don’t get Alec wrong, he adores his sister, but one tempting thing about moving is the opportunity for a little space.

-=-

Alec’s first week in the apartment is quiet. He keeps regular hours, but there’s no opportunity to meet any of his neighbours. There’s a polite ‘Hello’ or ‘Morning’ from time to time, but much to the annoyance of Isabelle that’s as far as introductions progress.

He’s kind of falling in love with it. The space. The freedom. The quiet.

It’s perfect.

Then his things start disappearing.

Alec’s unable to pinpoint the moment when he first realises he isn’t just misplacing things. It’s more of a gradual kind of awareness, but It begins with socks. He attributes it to them going missing in the wash, so he doesn’t really think about it too much when he ends up with a few odd pairs. Sure, he’s mildly annoyed, because his sense of order is slightly off-put by unpaired socks, but he just figures the washing machine is eating them.

-=-

Two weeks after moving, in the middle of a particularly awful cold snap, Alec somehow manages to lose a glove, rendering it’s pair useless. He’s certain that he left them both on the kitchen counter. In fact, he vividly remembers pulling them off. The memory sticks out because he’d been extremely frustrated and in a rush to answer a phone call from his mother.

However, he must be mistaken, because he can’t argue with the fact that there is only one glove on the kitchen counter when he next comes to put them on. Alec assures himself he must be mixing up his memories. He probably just dropped it in the street or on his way into the building, because after all, that seems like the most logical explanation.

-=-

Then he misplaces a sweater, his burgundy scarf, and a good shirt.

At this point, he begins to question his sanity. He records his sleep, with the idea that maybe he’s developed a habit of sleepwalking, but all it records are a few little snores, and he does not snore thank you very much. Alec deletes the app and the recording and leaves only partially terrible feedback.

-=-

A month after moving Alec reaches the end of his tether. He considers that perhaps the apartment has a ghost. The nice kind. That only steals really ordinary things.

Pulling the chest of drawers away from the wall in search of his tie, he curses this potential ghost, or karma, or whatever god is playing this cruel trick on him. He knows he left the tie here. There is no doubt in his mind and he will not allow himself to try to apply a logical solution to the situation. Although clearly, that’s what’s happening, because why else would he be searching behind his furniture. The logical solution, that the tie fell down the back of the drawers, is fruitless. He finds 8 cents, a stick of gum, and several of Izzy’s hair grips - _how do they manage to get everywhere_ \- but no tie.

Misplacing his tie wouldn’t usually bother him, wearing it irritates the hell out of him. But today is his monthly dinner with his parents and though unspoken, there’s always a dress code. Glancing at his watch, he realises he’s running late.

The drawers hit the wall with a thud as he shoves them, forcefully, back into place. There’s only really one choice for him: to leave now without the tie and potentially be on time. There’s no certainty that if he spends the next twenty minutes searching he’ll find it.

Checking his reflection in the mirror as he grabs a coat, Alec rakes his fingers through his unruly hair in order to make himself somewhat presentable. Sighing, he resigns himself to his appearance and thinks, _to hell with it_.

-=-

Alec’s late.

“Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds _,”_ his mother chastises, before noticing his state of undress. The look of horror that passes over her face might be comical, if it was directed at anyone but himself.

It probably doesn’t help that he forgot to fasten the top two buttons of his shirt, and his collar is sticking up awkwardly at the back. Things go decidedly downhill from there.

-=-

Exhaustion seeps into every cell of Alec’s body as he steps into the elevator and presses the button for his floor. He’s not sure what he expected. Every month they play this game, the outstretched olive branch in an attempt to bring him back into the fold, and every month he disappoints them with the ‘choices he’s made’.

Somehow, every time they meet like this Alec thinks  _perhaps this is the day_. The day they realise that he can’t live by their rules anymore. The day they finally acknowledge he left. The day they accept that he’s not coming back.

Some might call that type of thinking naïvety. Alec likes to think of it as hope. The reality is that it’s probably somewhere between the two.

He’s distracted from his pity party when another gentleman enters the elevator. The man’s movements seem almost choreographed, from the turn of his body as he twists to face forward, to the flourish of fingers decorated with rings. Those fingers dance intricately across the row of buttons in search of the right floor. Alec feels himself staring, but entranced as he is, he can’t seem to pull his eyes away.

Alec’s gaze sweeps upwards to the man’s face. The eyes that lock with Alec’s are boldly lined in kohl and softened by a glint of gold glitter.

Alec audibly swallows. The collar of his shirt, now fully buttoned, becomes constrictive; he can’t help but absently pull at it. _So this is what instant crush feels like._ He’s not had the pleasure of this feeling before. His fingertips itch to reach out and touch, his tongue feels two sizes too big for his mouth, and his heart, his heart hammers in his chest. Izzy’s given him lengthy and often TMI descriptions about the spark of desire that can burn from a single look. Her descriptions really didn’t do it justice.

He stares for longer than is socially acceptable before clearing his throat and shifting his head to face forwards again. Out of the corner of his eye, Alec catches a hint of burgundy that has him instantly twisting back.

“That’s my scarf.” His voice drips with a level of accusation that surprises even Alec. But that is  _his_ scarf. It’s the one that’s been missing. The one Isabelle bought him when she was subtly trying to suggest he wear more colour, in an unsurprisingly unsubtle way. Alec doesn’t even take a moment to consider that they might have made more than one of those scarves.

The man raises an eyebrow in question before looking down at himself, as if seeing the garment for the first time. Something like humour passes over his face.

“I knew I didn’t buy anything this drab,” the man shrugs and, lifting an arm, begins to unwind the material from around his neck. The movement causes his coat to bunch at his biceps and Alec wonders how he failed to notice those sooner.

Startled, Alec takes an abortive step backwards as the scarf is draped around his neck, the ends still held in the strangers’ grasp. The elevator grinds to a halt, and whilst the doors slide open an irritating voice announces they’ve reached the 6th floor.

The stranger throws one end of the scarf over Alec’s left shoulder before taking a step back, assessing. He lets out a low hum, in what Alec thinks might be appreciation, before exiting the elevator.

And Alec’s still standing there, slightly dumbfounded, when it’s announced ‘doors closing’ and he realises this is his floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Chairman Meow winds his way between Magnus’ legs as Magnus closes the door to the apartment behind him. Magnus tuts at the cat and refuses to bend down to scratch the soft fur between his ears.

“You’ve been naughty again?” he asks Chairman, who purrs in what Magnus would swear is innocence. Chairman lifts his head to look up at his owner through pleading eyes.

“No,” Magnus tells Chairman as he shifts out of his jacket, hanging it by the door, “kleptomaniac cats can steal their own treats.”

Sighing due to a mix of exhaustion and having a cat that likes to complicate his life by stealing from his neighbours, Magnus relaxes into an armchair. The soft cushions are a welcome relief after spending the day on his feet. Fashionable shoes are not always made with comfort in mind.

As is Magnus’ habit when he gets home from work, he dials a number and waits whilst it rings.

“Magnus,” Catarina’s voice comes down the line, soft and happy. “Give me a minute.”

Though she pulls the phone away, Magnus still hears her shift into what he thinks of as her Mum tone. Her voice becomes harder as she chastises Raphael for baiting Ragnor, and Ragnor for rising to it.

“For goodness sake, you’re grown men. Now play nice whilst I talk to Magnus.”

A fond smile breaks out across Magnus’ face at the string of curses and voices that mingle together following her words. Over ten years they’ve all known each other, time never changes them.

“I see Ragnor and Raphael are getting along famously,” Magnus says.

The sigh that echoes back down the line is only mildly annoyed. “They’re in fine form today,” she says pointedly, and Magnus can feel the glare his friends are getting from halfway across the city. He knows Catarina doesn’t really mean it... well, not fully. It’s just the way they are: his ragtag family. He knows that none of them would really change a thing about the other. Apart from Ragnor’s poor taste in scarves and coats and just about all of the clothes he buys without Magnus’ assistance, but that goes without saying.

“Chairman Meow’s in fine form too.” The cat in question promptly jumps into Magnus’ lap, winding him a little.

“Oh? What’s he been up to this time?” Chairman’s antics have become a running joke between them.

“I grabbed a scarf on my way out this morning that I swore was Ragnor’s, and I bumped into my neighbour in the elevator. It wasn’t Ragnor’s,” Magnus pauses for effect. “It turned out to be my neighbour’s.” Magnus’ mind drifts back to his neighbour. The pretty one. The one, that up until today, Magnus has only seen from a distance or from behind. He's imagined a pretty face, but his imagination hasn’t done his neighbour justice. Magnus’ neighbour isn’t just pretty, he’s gorgeous.

Magnus sinks back into the memory of the elevator, remembering the way his neighbour’s eyes had lingered far longer than necessary. His ego is healthy enough, but the thought gives it a nice boost. Though appreciation is probably all the lingering look was. Magnus has seen him with a girl named Isabelle on a number of occasions, and has overheard the exasperated way the man has gritted out her name, whilst still managing to lace his tone with an underlying fondness. It speaks of a certain closeness between the two.

“The cute one?” Catarina asks. Trust that to be her first question.

“Yes. The cute one.” Magnus may or may not have mentioned his new neighbour to his friends. One time, after several cocktails, where he’d shared his newfound appreciation for over an hour before Raphael had thrown a cushion at him in annoyance. But who can really blame him? Magnus just likes to appreciate pretty things, especially when alcohol is involved.

Plus his neighbour is actually considerate, which is a godsend. The last one had been the neighbour from hell, setting the fire alarm off constantly with foul-smelling cooking, which had somehow managed to seep into Magnus’ closet, much to Magnus’ annoyance. He’d done DIY at ridiculous times of the day, like 6:00 A.M. on a Sunday, when people should be sleeping thank you very much. He’d been a fashion disaster, and rude on top of it.

No, Magnus’ new neighbour is quiet. Come to think of it, Magnus never really hears a peep from next door. He can finally sleep in again without being woken by the sound of hammers or alarms. His closet has lost that burnt char smell. And, if he hasn’t mentioned it already, his neighbour’s cute.

“Do I have to separate you two?” Magnus hears Catarina hiss, her words are followed by silence, Magnus can just imagine the glare Raphael is giving right now. Satisfied, Catarina continues their conversation, “What did you do?”

So Magnus describes the meeting in detail, from the lingering eyes to the shocked expression he left his neighbour with.

“Did Chairman steal anything else?” She asks.

 _Oh._ He hadn’t gotten around to thinking about that yet. Magnus’ eyes scan the room, they fall on a dark jumper by the corner, it isn’t his. His gaze continues to move, catching on a plain black tie, definitely not his - the material is wrinkled and it looks like something that would be worn to a funeral.

Shaking his head, Magnus glances down at Chairman. The cat just rubs his head affectionately against the inside of Magnus’ arm, a universal sign of ‘ _stroke me_ ’.

“Yes. It seems he might he might have pulled a few heists.”

-=-

Magnus’ enlightening conversation with Catarina is like an awakening. All he can see are things that aren't his decorating his apartment and he wonders how he managed not to notice them before. In his defense, his friends are often leaving their things lying around.

There's a shirt, denim, that Magnus mildly approves of strewn across the back of his sofa. Plucking it up and folding it, he places the garment in a cardboard box.

Socks litter the floor under the living room window. Magnus can't seem to find a matching pair, and for some unknown reason they're all stripey. Either his neighbour only owns stripey odd socks or Chairman is a fussy cat burglar. Knowing Chairman, it's probably the latter.

There's a glove draped over the photographs on one set of drawers. As Magnus lifts the glove from it's resting place, his eyes catch on a picture in one of the frames. His hand hesitates. He doesn't know why he keeps the photo here; it’s possibly because Ragnor is in it, or maybe to remind himself there were happy moments, but most likely it’s to remind himself the happy moments aren't worth it.

He looks down at the face he once thought he was in love with. Camille Belcourt. There's a melancholy ache in his chest. It’s not the gut-wrenching stab it used to be and he congratulates himself on being able to look at the face of pure evil with mild indifference.

Just over a year ago he was boxing things up like this. _Was it really a year already?_ He remembers how his heart had been shattered; more so when Camille’s things took up the grand total of one box. Four years of his life, whittled down to just one box. Thinking back, that box probably caused him more pain than her betrayal. Marginally. That was the moment he’d known that Camille had never really been committed to a life together.

Magnus has come to realise that Camille enjoyed the status his job had given him at the time. He hadn’t been able to see that she was using him as a stepping stone into that circle and lifestyle. It had all come to a head when he’d decided he needed a shift in career, in priorities.

Magnus thinks he could have forgiven her if she’d just broken it off, but she’d been malicious. She’d cheated on him and then rubbed it in his face. When he’d confronted her about it she’d laughed and waved it away as if it was nothing. That had been the final straw.

Still, he remembers the day the photo had been taken. How she'd riled Ragnor up, how she'd convinced them both to go out drinking despite Magnus needing to study, how they'd danced on the terrace.

He remembers thinking they'd be happy.

But  _he's_ happy now.

He flings the glove behind him and into the box. Then, opening the drawer, he takes the photograph and places it inside. He doesn't need the reminder anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

Five days the box sits there on the floor by the front door. Magnus isn’t entirely sure why he doesn’t just drop it round, just knock on the door and hand the box over. He doesn't really need to explain, does he? Doesn't need to tell the story about a cat that has a habit of finding his way into other people's homes and then leaving with their belongings? Is that as far-fetched as he thinks it sounds?

Sighing, he picks the box up and Chairman sits in front of the doorway. Magnus thinks it might be in protest of him returning his hard-earned belongings (it must've taken some effort to drag that sweater home, it's three times the size of Chairman).

"Don't look at me like that," Magnus tells him, reaching for the door handle whilst trying to jostle the cat out of the way. Somehow Magnus manages to escape his apartment without injuring himself or letting Chairman out.

He raps loudly on his neighbour’s door and waits. He can hear movement inside, voices too muffled to make out the words, and then the door is swinging open and the woman Magnus has often seen with his neighbour leans against it. She offers him a gorgeous smile that lights up her face, it’s offset by the dark red tone of lipstick,  a shade which Magnus highly approves of.

Her eyes take him in and he knows it's an appraising look, a smug smile working its way to his lips as her eyes reach his face.

"Hi, handsome," she greets.

"Hello." Juggling the box, he outstretches a hand in greeting and adds, “Magnus”.

“Isabelle,” she says taking his hand in hers.

“I live next door.” That’s a solid beginning to an explanation and Magnus looks down at the box of belongings and decides to just go for it. "My cat likes to steal things and I think these may be yours, or your boyfriend’s." He offers the box to her and is taken aback when she almost doubles over with laughter. It was the cat thing, wasn’t it? He just knew it wasn’t believable.

"Alec, get out here," she yells between gulps of breath and gestures Magnus into the apartment.

-=-

"This is Alec." Alec overhears Isabelle say as he steps out into the main room. "My _brother_."

Alec thinks the way Isabelle says the word ‘brother’ is slightly strange. Then he forgets how to think at all. Alec’s breath catches in his chest as his eyes rest on the man from the elevator, and okay, wow, the attraction doesn’t appear to be a one-time thing. He notices the strands in the front of the man's hair are red today, matching his shirt, a shirt that is unbuttoned to mid-chest and draws Alec's attention. _It's rude to stare,_ he tells himself, but he does it anyway. He just can’t help himself and he misses whatever the man says in response to Isabelle’s introduction. Alec’s only drawn back into the conversation when Isabelle speaks directly to him.

"This, is Magnus." She says the words the way you might to someone who is hard of hearing, slow and well pronounced, and finishes it with a wink. Alec has to hold back a groan - Isabelle is the queen of unsubtle. Alec actually got her a certificate with that on once.

"Hey," Alec says by way of greeting, then immediately feels the word's inadequacy.

"I was just explaining to your  _sister_ ," Magnus pauses and shares a look with Isabelle, a mischievous smile on both their faces.

Alec walks further into the room, feeling as though he’s missed part of the conversation. They’re brother and sister, Alec knows that, so what’s the big deal?

"Chairman Meow, my cat, has a habit of stealing things from my neighbours. So I rounded up everything that I think is yours."

Alec's gaze shifts from Magnus to his sister. Is this guy serious right now? But she just shrugs. Alec considers that it's not really a story you’d choose to make up. Two reasons strike him: the first being that Magnus named his cat Chairman Meow, because, ding, ding, ding! that takes first prize in the pun awards. It’s not really a name you pull out of thin air. The second reason being that Magnus actually thinks that someone will believe the story. It seems too far-fetched to be made up. Unless this is some elaborate hoax, which knowing Alec’s luck it could be.

"Though these are slightly suspect," Magnus pulls a pair of boxers from the box. They’re bright red and yellow, with two arrows. One points upwards with the words ‘the man’ printed next to it, the other points to the crotch this time with the words ‘the legend’. "They seem a bit out of your colour range."

Alec’s face is beetroot, he can feel his cheeks burning as Magnus’ eyes trail over his body and he blurts out, "They're not mine!" before he can stop himself. Magnus raises an eyebrow in question.

"I feel like there's a story here. Do tell."

"Yes, go on, brother."

"They're Jace's," Alec offers as explanation. Isabelle motions for him to keep going, but he just shrugs, what more is there to say. From where she's standing she reaches over to punch him in the arm.

"Hey," he grumbles rubbing the sting away. Isabelle might look dainty but she packs one hell of a punch and he isn’t too proud to admit it.

"Jace is our brother," Isabelle explains whilst Alec nurses his arm.

"With poor taste," Alec adds. "So you can't really blame us for him, or those."

“Alec,” Isabelle starts, and from the tone of her voice Alec already knows he isn’t going to like anything that follows. “Aren’t you going to invite our guest to stay for a drink?”

Well, he can’t exactly say no to that now can he?

A drink turns into multiple drinks and Alec finds himself fascinated by Magnus, so fascinated that he’s not bothering to hide the fact. He knows he must be obvious because Isabelle keeps giving him these smiles of encouragement. He thinks they’re mixed with a little pride, but he doesn’t like how that makes him wistful so he brushes it aside.

Before the evening is over Alec has learnt that Magnus is a litigator, has lived in the building since he moved to Brooklyn, and is an incorrigible flirt.

Alec can’t decide if the flirting is serious or just an integral part of who Magnus is. The more he thinks about it, the more he realises he’d like it to be serious. If there’s one thing Isabelle has accomplished with this evening, it’s making Alec realise it isn’t just instant attraction anymore. He likes Magnus’ company. Usually when Izzy does this - invites people in for a drink so she can meddle and interrogate - it irritates Alec. This feels different and when Magnus excuses himself to leave, Alec instantly notices the loss.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Pameluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pameluke) for the recipe used in this chapter

A dishcloth clenched in his jaws, Chairman Meow perches on Alec’s kitchen counter and they eye each other warily. Well, Alec assumes it’s Chairman Meow, it’s not like there are multiple cats finding their way into his apartment - at least, he hopes not.

“I’ve gotta go,” Alec tells Isabelle, before promptly hanging up on her without an explanation. She’ll be irritated and probably send a million texts in protest. In the end she’ll forgive him - no doubt after she manages to manipulate him into agreeing to a shopping trip.

Careful not to spook the cat, Alec takes a few slow steps forward until he’s within touching distance. He reaches out a hand, reminds himself no sudden movements, but Chairman actually moves closer to his touch, head brushing against his fingers. Alec can’t help but scratch the soft fur behind the cat’s ears, chuckling at Chairman’s muffled purr.

With his other hand, he reaches for the collar, twisting it to take the tag between his fingers. The metal is cool to the touch, the angle awkward, but Alec manages to read the words engraved there. His suspicions are confirmed, it is indeed Chairman Meow.

It’s relatively easy to reclaim his dishcloth, one simple tug and it’s given up. It may be helped by the fact that Alec continues to pet Chairman, who seems very enamoured with the attention. Alec can’t quite believe that something so small and affectionate has been wreaking havoc on his life.

“We should get you home,” he tells Chairman, and okay, now he’s talking to animals.

When Alec lifts the cat into his arms, Chairman doesn’t put up a fight. If anything, he snuggles in closer.

Alec has to juggle the cat slightly in order to knock on Magnus’ door and he’s just trying to rebalance them both when the door opens.

“Alexander.”

Alec’s never liked his full name. It’s only ever used by his mother when she’s scolding him, so he’s always thought of it as a curse. The way the word rolls off Magnus’ tongue, familiar and soft, with something else beneath it that Alec can’t quite decipher, has Alec wishing Magnus will never use the shortened version again. It’s like Magnus has said it just this way ten thousand other times, like he’ll say it again for another thousand, and Alec feels himself melt, which doesn’t really help when he’s trying to regain his balance.

Alec watches Magnus’ eyes drop to the squirming bundle of fur, which is clearly sensing the unsteadiness of their predicament and looking for the nearest escape route.

“I see he’s been breaking and entering again,” Magnus tuts in judgment and reaches out to spare Alec from being mauled to death. “What was he after this time?”

“A dishcloth.”

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste.”

With his arms empty, and his mind struggling to come up with a response, Alec feels a sudden sense of unease. He shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, fingers scratching the nape of his neck.

“I’m cooking,” Magnus tells him. “There’s more than enough for two, if you’d care to stay?”

“Oh.” Alec’s taken aback by the invitation and his mind whirls from shock to elation, before settling on the realisation that Magnus is probably only being polite. “It’s erm… It’s okay... I should.”

Whilst Alec vaguely gestures behind him, Magnus bends down to set Chairman loose. With the confidence of being on steady ground, Chairman winds his way between their legs.

“Alexander,” Magnus says and Alec can’t help but think _there it is again,_ that same intonation. They’re close, Magnus’ hand resting gently upon Alec’s shoulder. “I insist.”

Alec finds he can’t refuse when Magnus talks like that, his voice laced with suggestion; he doesn’t want to.

-=-

Magnus cooks the same way he moves, the same way he talks: with purpose. It’s almost poetic or Alec might allow himself to think that if he was more romantically inclined. He can’t find the words to describe what he likes about it, he just knows that he enjoys watching.

Alec’s gaze shifts from Magnus’ hands to his eyes when he realises Magnus just asked him something. He hasn’t really been listening, too engrossed in watching Magnus. Which must be clear given that Magnus shakes his head a little, the hint of a smile just teasing at the corner of his mouth.

“Anchovies?” Magnus asks again, this time gesturing towards the cutting board with the knife.

“Sure?” Honestly, Alec has no idea if he wants anchovies or not. Looking at the ingredients he can identify on the counter in front of him, he’s not really sure what Magnus is making.

Magnus chops the anchovies, quick and with efficiency, and Alec fears for Magnus’ fingertips on numerous occasions.

“What are you making?” Alec finds himself asking. Magnus turns from the counter, tossing the anchovies into the pan with some garlic and oil. Alec is not at all distracted by the way Magnus’ shirt tightens across his back with the movement of muscles. Not in the slightest.

“Pasta Puttanesca,” Magnus tells him, still facing away, and Alec’s not entirely sure what question he asked in the first place. “It’s nothing fancy. A sauce of anchovies, chilli peppers, olives, capers, and tomatoes. All served with spaghetti.”

Nothing fancy. Sure. It smells fancy.

Alec’s never watched someone cook like this before, well, no one competent anyway. The word ‘cooking’ cannot be used with whatever inedible concoctions Isabelle puts together. It’s more than that, Magnus doesn’t weigh or measure anything out. He seems to do it all by eye.

Sometimes Alec attempts to cook. Yes, that’s right, from time to time he’s been known to make food. Not the fancy kind, the kind where he just chucks all the ingredients in together. Even then, he likes a carefully organised list. He likes exact amounts with no deviations, no dashes of this, or pinches of that.

“Where did you learn to cook?” Alec asks. When he doesn’t get an immediate response he worries he’s put his foot in something.

Turning back to face Alec, Magnus says, “My Mother.” Then picking up a jar he asks, “Are you a lover of capers?”

Alec gets the hint that it’s an off-the-table topic, and he makes a mental note not to go stomping around in it by accident. He gets it, really he does. He has his own complicated relationship with his mother.

“I’ve never tried them,” Alec admits.

“Well then,” Magnus twists the jar open. “There’s a first time for everything,” and he winks without any subtlety.

Colour floods Alec’s cheeks uncontrollably and he berates himself. He’s been flirted with before for goodness sake. What is it about Magnus that elicits this response from him, and why can’t he seem to get it under control?

“My last boyfriend really hated this recipe.”

It takes a minute for Alec’s brain to catch up to Magnus’ words because he’s still sort of mesmerised by the way Magnus didn’t even have to strain to open the jar. _Boyfriend_. Alec’s heart does a funny little jump in his chest that he’s not entirely sure he likes. He’s just thankful Magnus hasn’t spoken about past boyfriends around Isabelle; Alec would never have heard the end of it.

Alec continues to watch as Magnus moves around the kitchen. There's an ease to his movements that betray how often he must do this. Alec's mind is still focused on Magnus’ last statement. He hasn’t known Magnus all that long, but he gets the feeling that Magnus doesn’t throw words around. To some, they may seem off-hand, obvious even, and sometimes callous. To Alec, it feels like there’s a truth to everything he says. He just has to look for it.

“You said you work for a charity?” Magnus asks when the meal is prepared, and they sit down to eat. “Did I get that right?”

Alec nods around a bite of glorious of food, holding back a moan. Can Magnus cook for him for the rest of his life, please?

“What does that entail?”

Alec likes Magnus. He more than likes Magnus, but he's never felt all that comfortable discussing his work with new people. When he tells Magnus he works with a small team, that he's in charge of coordinating the fundraising and PR, and deciding which projects the funds should go to, Alec omits the fact that he's actually the founder of the charity. He also fails to let Magnus know he used a large chunk of his own capital, much to his parents' disdain, to set it up.

To Alec’s surprise though, Magnus is attentive. His focus is solely on Alec. Other than Isabelle, and sometimes Jace, Alec’s never found himself the centre of someone’s attention like this.

“Who does the charity aim to help?” Magnus asks when Alec tails off.

“It’s mainly a housing fund, but we have a few other side projects that tie into that overall theme.”

Magnus shifts in his chair, fingers playing with the cuff on his ear. How did Alec fail to notice that earlier?

“That’s a noble cause, Alexander.”

Is that pride Alec hears in Magnus’ voice? That’s what it feels like. Praise isn't something Alec's overly familiar with. He's unsure how best to respond, so he shrugs the comment off.

“It’s nothing, really,” Alec assures.

Magnus reaches across the table to rest a hand on Alec’s. His palm is warm, the heat radiating outwards from that point of contact. Alec tears his gaze away from where Magnus is touching him. The sincerity with which Magnus is looking at him surprises Alec. Voice even and serious, Magnus speaks.

“To someone… It’s everything.”

Alec can’t help but feel that there’s a hidden meaning to those four simple words.


	5. Chapter 5

The Friday following their impromptu meal, Alec runs into Magnus, quite literally. Alec’s buying cookies at the café across the street from their apartment building. With his arms full he turns and walks straight into someone. He’s still spluttering out an apology when he realises it’s Magnus.

“Sweet tooth?” Magnus asks. He must have spotted the three bags of cookies in Alec’s grip and the fact that it’s only 8 am.

“It’s a Friday thing,” Alec shrugs. “One of us brings treats.”

As Alec says the words, he takes the opportunity to just look at Magnus. Magnus’ hair doesn’t have a streak of colour today, the kohl lining his eyes is devoid of any glitter, and Magnus is wearing a shirt and tie. Granted, the tie is pink with a purple paisley design (all those years of Isabelle dragging Alec to shops and fawning over fabrics must have rubbed off on him).

It’s still Magnus standing in front of Alec. It's just a toned down version of him. While Alec enjoys looking at Magnus no matter what, he misses the flair and eccentricity that he’s come to associate as an integral part of being Magnus Bane.

“You’re looking smart,” Alec comments. _Really?_ Alec could roll his eyes at himself right now. _Couldn’t he have thought of any other sentence than that one?_

Unaware that Alec is mentally criticizing himself, Magnus pays for his coffee. He turns back to Alec.

“I’ve got court today,” he explains and they make their way out of the bakery.

They stand awkwardly on the sidewalk and Alec wracks his brain for something to say.

“Well... Good luck,” he settles on.

Magnus’ lips curve into a smirk, “Why, thank you, Alexander.” He twists on his heel as if to leave, before looking directly at Alec. “But I’m not going to need it.”

Magnus completes his turn; he might be toned down in look, but never in movement. Alec’s eyes are glued to his taut butt as he walks away. Magnus turns the corner, vanishing from sight, and Alec is standing there wondering if he’s ever had that kind of confidence or conviction.

-=-

Magnus is close to unravelling the case he’s working on. It’s there somewhere, but he can’t find the right thread to pull on. Knowing no progress can be made with his current level of frustration, he decides to call it a day and head home. Magnus knows how much his work benefits from a set of fresh eyes. It doesn’t make it any easier to tear himself away from cases though. Especially when he knows that people are relying on him to help them. Still, it won’t do him any good to burn himself out by working every hour of the day. He just has to remind himself of that from time to time.

It’s four days since Magnus last saw Alec (not that he’s counting) and he’s pleasantly surprised when the elevator doors in his building open and Alec comes barrelling out. He almost walks right into Magnus, who instinctively puts his hands out to steady them both.

“Sorry. Hi,” Alec stutters over the words.

Something about him is so endearing.

“Hi,” Magnus replies.

His hands are still gripping Alec’s arms. He should move them. He should lower them and let Alec pass. He doesn’t do any of those things. In fact, neither of them move. Magnus can’t pull his gaze from Alec’s hazel eyes. They’re always so expressive, like now: the pupils are a little dilated, matching the shallow way Alec is breathing. There’s something here between them, something growing. It’s still intangible, unspoken. Nevertheless, it charges the air with tension. A minute passes as Magnus stands there; it seems to last forever.

“Gotta go,” Alec says softly. He doesn’t attempt to move, doesn’t break the connection, and Magnus smiles widely at him. Magnus is enjoying this in-between stage, where they’re both trying to figure out what this means, and more, what they should do about it.

Magnus knows exactly what he's going to do. He's going to have to take Catarina’s advice soon. He’s going to have to ask Alexander out.

-=-

“I don’t understand how he keeps getting in,” Alec tells Magnus when he drops Chairman round. It’s two weeks since Alec first found Chairman sitting on his kitchen counter.

“You’re on your way out,” Alec states. He’s only just noticing Magnus has a coat on and is winding a scarf around his neck, not Alec’s burgundy one this time. That burgundy one is hung up in Alec’s apartment. It still smells earthy and floral, and it reminds Alec of Magnus each time he wears it.

Come to think of it, Alec hasn’t lost any clothing for a few weeks. Perhaps Chairman’s kleptomaniac streak has subsided, or perhaps he’s just moved on to a new neighbour.

Magnus plucks the cat from Alec’s outstretched arms. He puts Chairman down in the apartment and instructs him to ‘be good’. Then he steps out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus apologises. “There’s no controlling him. I’d say he’ll grow out of it, but he’s six so I sincerely doubt it.”

Magnus’ hand is resting on the bare skin of Alec’s arm. Little shockwaves are radiating outward from the contact. Alec’s much too aware of the way Magnus’ thumb strokes gently, once, twice, before he pulls away. Alec tenses his muscles to keep from chasing the touch. He doesn't need Magnus to know how needy he feels.

“It’s fine,” Alec assures when he’s confident he can speak without pleading for more contact.

Not ten minutes later, when Alec is sitting on his sofa with a new book in hand, Chairman Meow jumps up into Alec’s lap. He turns a few circles before snuggling down, and Alec finds that he’s too amused to care.

-=-

Alec hates Sundays, especially the last Sunday of every month.

As soon as he steps into the restaurant, he knows something is off. There’s a sick feeling in his gut, a dread that he has no reason for feeling.

“Hello Dear,” his mother greets him. She presses a kiss to his cheek; it’s followed by a firm handshake from his father. To an outsider, this might seem like nothing out of the ordinary, but as they take their seats at their standard table Alec’s hackles are raised. Where’s the usual reprimand for some ridiculous faux pas? He’s sure he was at least three minutes late, but no one’s mentioned his tardiness.

It’s not just the greetings; the dinner itself is pleasant enough, which should also serve as a warning. ‘Pleasant’ and ‘dinner with his parents’ aren’t words that he has ever used together in a sentence. His mother drones on about the weather, his father comments on the state of the economy, and Alec praises the chef for the well-cooked food. It’s the same inane conversation they always have.

It’s only as Alec’s finishing the last of his wine that they blindside him with it.

“We’d like to make a donation,” his mother says, the same nonchalant tone as when she discussed the dreadful rain they’ve had. “One hundred thousand dollars.”

Alec doesn’t even have to think about it, “No.”

He downs the remnants of his wine and wishes for another bottle as she tries railroading him. Alec mostly blocks it out, but he catches her drift. He’s ungrateful and selfish. Alec looks at his father. It’s not surprising that the great Robert Lightwood is sitting there stoic and silent; he’s been that way most of Alec’s life. Then his mother changes tactics, her voice condescending and sweet.

“We just want to help. With an influx of funds, you won’t need to spend as much of your time dealing with the PR or the fundraising.”

There it is: Maryse’s real motive. There is the condition of them contributing this money. Alec knows them too well to be fooled that they’d give him anything for free. It's always been about what  _they_ get out of it. It always will be. They'll give him this money with the expectation that he comes back to the company. He'll sit in some office with very little power to do anything, and they'll get to look like a wholesome family business. The charitable tax deductions are presumably just a bonus. Alec can't stomach it.

“I’m sure someone else can take over the day to day running, it can’t be very difficult. It must run itself really,” Maryse snickers at her own words.

 _Why does she always have to trivialise his work like this?_ She doesn’t see the hours Alec puts in. She doesn’t see the people that sit in his office distraught with the prospect that they’re about to lose their home. The home that they’ve lived in all of their life. The home that they’re raising their children in, that’s filled with memories they cherish. She doesn’t understand the fear and desperation these people have. How they’re scraping money together for rent and food. She’s too privileged to have ever wanted for anything.

His parents don’t see the aftermath of their destruction. They buy an apartment building and they tear it down without a thought for the occupants. They find ways to evict those that won’t leave of their own volition. Then they build luxury high rise apartments that their previous tenants could never afford, and they don’t feel a moment's guilt.  

Alec’s spent hours in his office, long after everyone else has left, in order to finish applications for funding. He’s held hands, said soothing words, and tried to calm fears. Most days are difficult, especially when he isn’t able to help. Those are the days when he questions what he’s doing, why he’s doing it. But the days when a family cries in gratitude, when parents hug their children close, happy in the knowledge that they have a roof over their heads, those are the days when it's all worthwhile.

Perhaps Alec owes his parents something after all, without them he never would have followed this path. At first, it had all been in an effort to right his parents' wrongs. Somewhere along the way it’s become rewarding to Alec, evolved into something he can be proud of. Not that his parents see that. To his mother, Alec is just sitting idle most of the time. When he’s not doing that he’s apparently just hosting parties.

“We’re working on a new project, and it would look good for us to show a united front. Your office is still vacant. I’ve had Lydia reorganise it for your return. Oh and this _little_ charity you’ve been playing with would be excellent PR for the new waterfront development.” Maryse turns to her husband, “Robert, remind me to get Lydia on that straight away on Monday. It will be the perfect way to highlight how we’re giving back.”

 _Maryse Lightwood, everybody._ Alec thinks. He seethes at the idea of his work being turned around on him like this. He’s been helping rehome dozens of families his parents have evicted for their ‘new project’. He’ll be damned if he’s going to let them use this charity he’s 'been playing with.' If his work is as inconsequential as his mother is making out, how can it have any hope of being useful to her?

"I said no!" he tells his mother, interrupting her mid-flow.

She purses her lips, clearly ready to reprimand him, before thinking better of it. She reaches out to place a hand on his arm, and Alec feels his skin crawl.

"Alexander, stop being so obstinate. Your father and I are trying to do a good thing here."

Alec scoffs at her words and pulls his wallet from his pocket. He's had enough of this.

"Don't you _dare_ leave this table," his mother instructs. That brittle tone might have scared him once, it doesn’t anymore. Her voice is low. She wants to raise it, but Alec knows she wouldn't dare make a scene in a restaurant like this. The scandal would almost be as bad as when he'd told everyone he was gay. He really had told _everyone_ . He knew if he didn't they'd find some way to brush it under the carpet and keep it — no, _him_ — a dirty little secret.

Alec ignores her warning by opening his wallet. He tosses some bills onto the table and leaves. His father’s face is gruff with displeasure and his mother hisses words under her breath. Alec’s not sure he’ll show up for their dinner next month.

-=-

“You look exhausted.” Magnus can’t help but comment as Alec passes him in the hallway. It seems they’re both arriving home at the same time for a change.

Alec huffs out a breath, “Long week.”

Magnus nods his head in agreement, thankful it’s Sunday and that he can draw a line on the week. He’s disappointed when Alec doesn’t say anything else, just moves past him. Alec looks more than tired though, his shoulders are slumped, his movements lethargic. Magnus wants to ask what’s wrong, is about to, when Alec abruptly stops.

Alec turns back and blurts out, “Do you wanna go out some time?”

The words are mostly jumbled together, spoken in haste, but Magnus hears them. Catarina had asked him yesterday what he was waiting for. Truth be told, he thinks maybe he was waiting for this moment: for Alec to ask.

Magnus knows he’s grinning like a fool and he doesn’t care. There’s a giddy kind of excitement suddenly bubbling in his chest. _Calm it, Bane,_ Magnus tells himself and he banks it down.

“Yes. I’d love to.”

“Oh.” Whatever weight Alec was carrying seems to lift. He shifts, his posture more upright and a smile blooms across Alec’s face. It causes these little creases at the corners of his eyes that Magnus seems to have developed an obsession over.

“Name the time and place,” Magnus says.

He’s delighted when Alec opens his mouth, closes it again. It’s like Alec hadn’t actually gotten to the ‘going on the date’ part. It’s fun to watch him get so flustered, even more fun to be the cause of it. Eventually, Magnus decides to take pity on him.

“I’m free Friday evening. After six?” Magnus suggests.

“Yeah?” Alec nods and it’s like there’s a different person standing in front of Magnus compared to two minutes ago. “Okay. Friday.”

Alec’s blinding smile before he turns away will be burned into Magnus’ memory for eternity.


	6. Chapter 6

“I hate you,” Alec groans. A pillow to the face is not his favourite way to be woken up. He doesn’t remember hearing Jace come in last night. Since Alec moved, Jace has taken to staying on Sunday nights so they can do their Monday run before work together.

Alec had been hovering just below conscious thought, playing yesterday’s conversation with Magnus over and over in his mind and he’s annoyed by the interruption.

“You love me.”

Cracking an eye open, Alec is greeted with the sight of Jace, dressed only in boxers (thankfully not those god awful ‘the man, the legend’ ones).

“No. I most definitely hate you.” Alec tries to snuggle further under the covers, in the hope that Jace will somehow just disappear. “And for fuck’s sake, could you put some clothes on?”

“What’s not to love!” Jace states. He tugs the duvet off of Alec, who curls up at the attack of cold air against his skin. “Up and at ‘em.”

Alec rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. Family or not, there are limits to his patience and he plots the best places to hide a body. “There better be coffee.”

-=-

Their Monday morning run is usually a silent one, interrupted only by an occasional dig about not being able to keep up as they try to outdo each other. Much to Alec’s disappointment, this morning doesn’t appear to be a normal one.

“Heard you’ve got a date,” Jace’s voice cuts through the quiet as they jog.

“Izzy’s got a big mouth.” Alec only told her last night for goodness sake. Did she immediately send out a group email? Alec groans at that thought because that's just the sort of thing she would do.

“Who is he?” Jace asks as they round a corner.

“Like Izzy didn’t already tell you?”

“Yeah, but it’d be nice to hear these things first hand… from my brother.”

Alec slows his pace as they reach another corner, breath coming just a little quicker than normal. He knows when Jace plays the brother card that he means it. Somewhere between the apartment and McCarren Park, they moved from banter into serious conversation. They stop completely. The sidewalk is quiet, most people having not yet started their day, and the sun is just beginning to peak over the buildings.

“So. I asked my neighbour -- Magnus -- out on a date. His cat keeps stealing my things; that’s how we met. He’s 29, a litigator, and a fantastic cook.” Alec takes a breath, “Can we run now?” and before waiting for an answer he does just that.

“Wait.” Alec hears Jace call from behind him. “His cat steals your stuff?”

-=-

Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge after their run Jace asks, “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?” Alec’s sprawled across the sofa. He ran harder than he meant to, the stresses of the past week catching up with him. It was like he was trying to outrun them, which he knows isn’t possible. He was also trying to avoid this conversation.

“I know you had the Sunday dinner with them yesterday.”

Alec stretches his aching muscles, then stands.

“I’ve gotta shower before work,” Alec says.

Jace just continues to stand in the doorway blocking his path. They both look at each other, neither one ready to give in. Even though Jace is adopted, Alec’s often wondered if his stubbornness was learned; it’s a defining Lightwood trait.

“They want to make a sizable donation to the charity.” Alec finally cracks. He really does need to shower before work. He’s been a part of standoffs like this that have lasted hours.

“Okay,” Jace crosses his arms and his tone implies that he doesn’t see a problem with the donation.

“That kind of money doesn’t come without strings attached.”

“Alec. I doubt it’s like that.”

Alec knows the next words that are going to come out of Jace’s mouth are going to be in defence of their parents. He isn’t in the right headspace to hear those words from his brother right now. When Alec pushes past Jace, Jace doesn’t try to stop him.

-=-

Standing under the hot spray of the shower, hands pressed against the cool tile, Alec finds himself suddenly irrationally angry. Or maybe he's rationally angry, it's entirely reasonable for him to feel like he wants to punch something. Alec takes shallow breaths as his mind plays over his conversation with his parents. It’s been on an endless loop since he walked out of the restaurant.

 _It must run itself_. That's the sentence that sticks in Alec's mind the most; not the way his mother had called him selfish or said that he was only 'playing' around. If only she knew what Alec's daily work consisted of.

He presses his forehead against the tile, allows the scalding water to wash over him. His eyes prickle with hot tears and he holds on to his anger; he won't allow himself to cry.

How dare they! How dare they just presume they can organise his life. His mother had already decided he was coming back, it probably hadn't even crossed her mind that he'd say no. Perhaps she could've cajoled him, but she'd threatened the one thing that was his. The one thing he was proud of in his life. His work.

For so many years Alec watched his parents develop complex after complex, with no care for the communities they were destroying in the process. For a short time, he'd been a part of that. Naïvely he'd jumped at the position they'd offered him in the upper echelons of their company. He remembers how he thought he could change things, how he thought he could make a difference. The reality was that they'd given him a nice big salary and a title that meant nothing. How many times had he gone to them with an affordable housing proposal, only to be told that there wasn't enough money in affordable housing? When he argued that it shouldn't be all about profit, he was ushered back to his office with a 'don't worry your pretty little head over it' dismissal. His parents never believed in him enough to entrust him with any kind of power, and he realised that too late.

Switching the shower off, Alec steps out of the cubicle and reaches for a towel. He dries off his hair and tries to shake the mood that's itching beneath his skin. It doesn't work, his anger just sinks its claws deeper.

Alec going back to work for his parents' company is all about the image it presents, and nothing to do with his skill set. It's been a difficult lesson for Alec to learn, but when it comes to the Lightwoods, image is everything.

-=-

Tuesday has always been their night. Magnus can’t trace back to where it started, or who with, but it’s an unwritten rule that Tuesdays are for family. There’s no specific theme for Tuesday nights at Magnus’. He’ll usually cook, Raphael or Ragnor will scorn at it and then wolf it down like they haven’t eaten for weeks. All the while Catarina will fondly look on.

“So do you know where Alec is going to take you?” Catarina asks as they lounge on the sofa. Magnus is too full to think about moving for the foreseeable future.

“Really?” Raphael cuts in. “It wasn’t bad enough that we had to listen to him moon over the kid for the past how many months?”

“You’re just jealous,” Magnus smirks. “Because you wish you had an Alec.”

Raphael doesn’t even reply, just scoffs.

“He didn’t say. The way he asked seemed spontaneous, so I doubt he’d put any thought into where we might go.”

Magnus does wonder what type of date Alec will plan. Maybe it will just be a casual drink, but that doesn’t fit Alec. Magnus doubts Alec casually dates. He doesn’t give off that _experienced_ vibe, and Magnus finds it startlingly refreshing. Experienced is usually Magnus’ type. At least, it has been recently.

Magnus shrugs with feigned indifference, “It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not infatuated with him,” Ragnor’s words surprise Magnus. He hadn’t even been aware Ragnor was awake, let alone listening. He’s sure he’d heard Ragnor snoring in the armchair not five minutes ago.

“I’m...” he tries to explain that he is in no way infatuated. He definitely doesn’t dawdle opening his door in the hopes Alec might walk past. He has not ridden up and down in the elevator three times in one go. He also hasn’t dropped into that coffee shop, where they once bumped into each other, every morning last week. The person that did those things was definitely not him, thank you very much. He, however, doesn’t get a chance to deny all of those things, because Catarina holds up a hand in the universal sign of _shut the hell up_.

“Don’t give us that crap about not caring. You’ve more love inside of you than anyone I know and all of your life you’ve been dying to share it. We’ve had to continually watch you hollow yourself out for other people, whether they deserve it or not. Then Camille happened, and for a while you shut that part of yourself off. With Alec, you’ve started to open yourself up.”

Magnus knows better than to interrupt Catarina when she’s in this mood. Ragnor and Raphael must also agree as both of them sit in silence. There’s no movement, except for a nod of the head from Ragnor at Catarina’s words and a scowl from Raphael at the mention of Camille.

“I’m not saying don’t be careful,” her voice suddenly softens, gentles.The tone reminds Magnus of talking to an animal he’s afraid is about to flee. In fact, he’s used it with Chairman on numerous occasions. He isn’t sure he likes the comparison. Catarina’s tone is mimicked by the hand she rests carefully on Magnus’ arm and she continues to speak. “Because we don’t really want to have to put you back together again. I’m just saying... keep being open to the possibility. You like Alec. Yes?”

Magnus nods, there’s a strange lump in his throat that he doesn’t seem to be able to swallow. If he tries to talk right now he’s afraid he’s not going to be able to hold back the tears, and he’s loathe to cry in front of Raphael.

“Then make sure you give him a fair chance.”

-=-

“THEY OFFERED YOU ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS?!” Isabelle is clearly disgusted by the offer.

Alec sighs, but continues to fold the laundry. He knew this would be her reaction, and that’s why he’s been avoiding this conversation all week. He’s surprised that it took her until Friday to actually wheedle it out of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You better not have taken it,” she says. She completely glosses over the fact that Alec doesn’t want to have this conversation.

“Do I look like an idiot?” Alec’s mood is taking a sudden downturn.

Isabelle stares at him pointedly.

“Isabelle!” Exasperated he throws the T-shirt he was folding down on the bed and then sinks onto the mattress. Cradling his head in his hands, he takes a minute to just breathe.

Sensing his annoyance, Isabelle crawls onto the bed beside him. Curling an arm around his back, she presses her head into the crook of his neck.

“Talk to me,” she whispers, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirtsleeve. It distracts him from his outrage.

For the first time in days, he lets his anger dissipate. Underneath it Alec finds only pain; the pain he hasn’t allowed himself to deal with. He hasn’t wanted to. Alec acknowledges it now. In this moment, in Izzy’s embrace, he lets it hit him full force. Through it, she anchors him, gives him the space and support he needs.

Alec doesn’t speak for a long time.

“I was still hoping they’d take my job seriously,” he confesses.

“You don’t need them, Alec.”

She’s right, he doesn’t _need_ them, but does a child ever really stop looking for the approval of their parents? It’s not about needing them. It’s about _wanting_ them. Alec doesn’t say that to Isabelle. He doesn’t voice the deepest, darkest hopes he still holds on to. That he wants there to be pride in their eyes at his achievements. That he wants to see that they care. That he wants to know that he’s loved. He wonders if anything he's done has ever been good enough for them.

Why does he keep doing this to himself? Why does he keep asking something of them that they're never going to give? Why hasn't he just cut all ties with them? He knows why he still keeps that tenuous relationship with them open: It's in the hope that one day they'll wake up and see him for who he is, not the person they think he failed at being.

“You’re not wearing _that_ on your date?” Isabelle exclaims, noticing the black shirt hung on the wardrobe door. He _is_ actually wearing that shirt for his date. It’s a nice shirt. He’s happy for the subject change, but the subject hasn’t exactly gotten any better.

“Can we not do clothes choices right now.”

But she’s already up and pushing the doors of the wardrobe open. Alec falls backwards to lie on the bed in resignation. There’s no stopping her once she gets going.


	7. Chapter 7

Alec pulls at the cuff of the deep plum shirt as it pokes out from under his jacket. Isabelle found it hidden somewhere in the back of his closet and insisted he wear it. As he shrugs out of his jacket the fabric of the shirt bunches around his arms and clings to his chest. He’s worried that if he moves or reaches for something too quickly a few buttons might just pop right off. They strain as he extricates himself fully from the coat, but thankfully remain in place. He’s throwing this shirt out as soon as he gets home.

“Is this okay? Are you hungry?” Alec enquires about the restaurant as he puts the coat on the back of his chair. He hasn’t eaten here before, but he’s heard good things.

A strangled noise from Magnus has Alec looking up, and if Alec’s getting the vibe right, he might never take this shirt off. Magnus is frozen mid-motion, his coat half off, and he’s just gazing at Alec with an appreciative raise of an eyebrow. Their eyes catch and they stand there in the middle of the restaurant for a moment just watching each other. Magnus clears his throat. Moving in close to Alec, he runs a finger down the sleeve of the shirt.

“I’m hungry... _now_ ,” Magnus’ voice is a purr that brings a thrill to Alec’s chest. That line should be seedy and coming from anyone but Magnus it probably would be. Instead, Alec flushes and fumbles to pull out the chair.

“Ravenous,” Magnus adds, a smug smirk accompanying his words as he moves to the other side of the table and takes his seat. “That walk worked up _quite_ the appetite.”

The walk, sure. Alec tries to think of something to say, he clasps his hands together to stop their shaking. He’s nervous, why is he so damn nervous? This is Magnus for goodness sake. He’s had drinks and dinner with Magnus before, and all of that involved conversation. The problem is that _this_ is more than just conversation. It’s a date.

Magnus reaches across the table and lays a hand on Alec’s joined ones. The touch is soft and gentle.

“Relax,” Magnus says and Alec feels himself let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding in.

 _You’ve got this._ He tries to reassure himself. Alec’s thankful the moment is interrupted by a waiter wanting to take their drinks order. He manages to relax through the arrival of their drinks, placing their order, and then waiting for their meal. Magnus makes it easy.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” Magnus’ fingers play with the stem of his wine glass, have been for the past five minutes. Alec’s been distracted by their movement, by the way the light reflects off the metal of Magnus’ rings. Alec draws his attention away, looking up to find a frown marring Magnus’ face. Alec can’t decipher what it means.

“Oh? I just...” Alec’s not sure what he was going to say. What wasn’t Magnus expecting? The restaurant, the evening stroll, the date, Alec? Alec’s confusion must show on his face because Magnus rushes on.

“That came out wrong,” he tells Alec, “I guess, I wasn’t expecting to enjoy myself so much.”

“Oh.” _Oh? Really Alec._

Alec thinks he should take that as a compliment, because he understands what Magnus is trying to say, and if he could get his mind to work he might tell Magnus that he feels the same. He might tell Magnus that he never imagined falling for someone quite so quickly, quite so hard. But he doesn’t say those things; instead, he reaches for his wine.

Alec’s distracted by the shy smile Magnus is giving him and he miscalculates, tipping the glass. It splashes across the table top, onto Alec’s shirt, and they both jump back instinctively.

“Shit,” Alec curses, and he’s mopping the wine up with his napkin before he can stop himself. “I’m sorry. Clumsy and-” Magnus’ hand on his arm stops him and when Alec looks up the shy smile has become one of humour. He’s chuckling a little at Alec. _Oh, wonderful_ , Alec thinks. Not only has he developed an inability to use words, he also can’t use his hands. He’s beyond embarrassed. Then Magnus uses a napkin to dab at Alec’s shirt, the spot across his chest, and the embarrassment is spreading into a warm desire. For a moment he imagines what that touch would be like without the material between them.

His mind snaps back into focus when he realises Magnus is actually speaking to him.

“Sorry. What was that?” He asks, cheeks flaming. The twinkle of humour in Magnus’ eye is a clear indicator that Magnus has an idea of exactly where Alec’s thoughts just headed.

“I said you’ll need to soak that shirt,” Magnus tells Alec. Yes, the dreaded shirt, the one he’s decided he might just keep forever.

The spilled wine is forgotten about as they dig into their food, and Alec manages to relax again, though his mind does get a little distracted over dessert. The way Magnus eats his chocolate cake cannot be legal. Although, Alec’s pretty sure Magnus is just messing with him. The way Magnus closes his eyes as he savours each bite, the quiet little groans of pleasure that emanate from his throat leave Alec flushed. Alec has to glance around to make sure no one’s watching.

When they split the check Alec’s almost sorry the night is over.

“Can I walk you home, Mr Lightwood,” Magnus offers as they both slip into their jackets.

Alec can’t hold back his chuckle, “We live in the same building, Magnus.”

Magnus just stands there, his hand outstretched, waiting.

Alec shakes his head. He can’t deny that something inside him lights up at the romantic request.

“Certainly, Mr Bane,” and he slips his hand into Magnus’.

The journey home is companionable. They lull into a quiet, just happy to be in each other’s company. Alec’s hand is still clasped in Magnus’, who traces delightful patterns across the cool skin of Alec’s hand. It sends Alec’s nerves into overdrive.

Alec, being Alec, can’t quite switch his mind off and he anxiously relives the date over and over as they step into their building. He’s over-analysing, he knows that, but even as he’s doing it he can’t stop himself.

Magnus probably thinks he’s a fool. Alec has totally blown whatever chance he had with him, and that’s why, as they walk down the corridor to their apartments, he turns and gives Magnus a strained smile. He’s going to apologise to Magnus, he’s going to say he’s sorry he was an idiot and that he completely understands that Magnus will never want to do this again.

Alec doesn’t get the chance to because Magnus takes a step closer. The hand not holding his reaches up to rest on Alec’s shoulder and Alec almost turns to look at it resting there. Almost. Their eyes are locked on each other, and Alec can’t find it in himself to break the connection. He’s forgotten he should breathe because _Magnus_ , Magnus is tantalisingly close. He’s just waiting there his eyes searching Alec’s for something. Alec’s suddenly done with waiting, done with walking away, done with trying to talk himself out of what he wants. So he takes the risk. He closes that gap between them, pressing his lips against Magnus’.

It begins chaste, just the press of lips against lips, until Magnus opens his mouth, tilts his head and deepens it. There’s a lingering taste of chocolate and Alec just has to have more. The need envelops him and Alec curls his hands in the lapel of Magnus’ jacket pulling him closer until their chests are pressed together, Alec’s hands trapped between them. The move has Magnus moaning his approval deep in his throat, and a frantic need to be closer burns through Alec.

Alec’s supposed failures of tonight melt away, he no longer cares about his clumsiness, or his too tight shirt, or the way he’d forgotten how to speak. In this moment all he can think about is Magnus, all he can taste is Magnus, and he’s drowning in the sensation.

Alec’s brain is frazzled when they eventually pull apart, both with their breath coming a little faster than usual. Alec’s grinning like a fool, he knows he is, and he doesn’t give a damn. His heart feels so full and he’s giddy with delight. This might be the best night of his life.

Magnus strokes his fingers against Alec’s cheek. Then he leans in for one quick, final kiss before pulling back and stepping away, his smile mirroring Alec’s. His key is in the lock and he turns back to Alec.

“Goodnight, Mr Lightwood.”

Then Magnus is gone, through the door, and Alec wonders how it is that he’s always standing, mystified, watching Magnus leave.


	8. Chapter 8

“You hate it don’t you?” Magnus asks in the middle of their third date. Sat in a crowd of people, Magnus' voice is low: barely a whisper.

“No,” Alec’s reassures, “It’s nice.”

Magnus is unconvinced. _Nice?_ Nice is when Chairman permits him to lie in on a Sunday morning. Nice is when the sun shines on days forecast with rain. Their date shouldn't be just  _nice_.

“But...” Magnus prompts.

“I don’t usually read self-help books.”

Neither does Magnus and yet here they are at a book reading for 'Programmed for Dissatisfaction'. He curses himself for mixing up the dates. It turns out the reading for 'The Dead Symphony' is next month.

Magnus was looking forward to it. Not because he's read the fantasy-adventure about a young man journeying through the four stages of death. No, he was looking forward to it because the book was written by Alec's favourite author. Alec might have mentioned it once, and Magnus might have stored that information away for future reference. Then he'd seen the book reading advertised and he'd been so excited to watch Alec's face when he realised where Magnus had brought him.

Magnus promises himself that he'll bring Alec next month. Maybe it’s presumptuous of him to assume they’ll still be dating in a months time, but the thought that they might not be doesn't even cross his mind.

Alec offers Magnus a smile, that lopsided one that Magnus adores. Alec leans in, pressing a kiss to Magnus' cheek. His hand seeks out Magnus' and he threads their fingers together.

The seats might be uncomfortable and the author’s voice monotonous, but Magnus doesn’t give a flying fuck what the book is about as long as it keeps Alec doing things like that.

Alec becomes engrossed in the speaker, but Magnus’ eyes are enthralled with the way their hands are connected. It’s a simple touch, innocent really, and yet there’s an intimacy about it that has Magnus yearning for more.

-=-

It’s somewhat awkward when they get back to their building. They stand in the hallway with their hands still entwined. Neither of them are ready to call it a night.

“You could come in for a drink?” Magnus asks, hopeful. “It’s only 8:30 after all.”

He worries that his words sound presumptuous. Whilst Magnus would enjoy getting Alec out of his clothes (he can think of little he would enjoy more), he really just wants to spend more time with Alec. At first it was merely attraction, but the more time they spend together, the more Magnus is falling for him. Magnus isn't strong enough to stop himself, can't fathom a reason why he should even try.

Alec is beautiful: from the unblemished, supple skin that is always so smooth to the touch; the alluringly kissable lips that Alec sucks in; and the break in Alec's left eyebrow that's accentuated when he raises it in question. It’s also the hazel eyes that steal Magnus' breath, the strong jawline, and the brown strands of hair that always look as if a hand has been raked through them. That's just the outside, but it truly reflects what Magnus has seen on the inside.

Alec is caring and generous. He has such love for his siblings. Magnus sees it every time Alec speaks of them; he's so open about how much they mean to him, and they're such an integral part of his life. It's the subject that Magnus most enjoys listening to Alec talk about because he's so animated when he discusses them, so vibrant and full of life.

Anxiously Magnus waits. Will he get to learn more about who Alec is tonight?

“I’d like that,” Alec tells Magnus.

Throughout their date there’s been an underlying tension between them, ever since Alec laced their fingers together. It’s like the air is charged with potential. Alec's words only heighten the feeling, leaving Magnus edgy. It might be why his fingers fumble as he tries fitting the key in the lock.

-=-

Magnus mixes a drink for them both. Squeezing lemon into a glass he looks up and forgets himself for a moment. Alec’s sitting there on the sofa rubbing his palms on the material of his trousers. He looks nervous and good enough to eat. The shirt he’s wearing isn’t quite as indecent as that plum one from their first date. That one had sucker-punched Magnus when Alec had removed his jacket, and honestly, it was a good job it had been in the restaurant. Anywhere else and Magnus might not have been able to control himself. That shirt will be quite difficult to top. _Shirtless_ might be the only thing that can, and… well… isn’t that a delightful idea.

As Magnus moves across the room with their drinks, he sees Alec come back to the present. There’s a startled expression on Alec’s face when Magnus places the drink in his hand. Magnus would pay heavily to know just what thoughts bring that colour to Alec’s cheeks.

Magnus watches Alec look down at the drink sceptically, swirl the liquid in the glass, before finally taking a sip. The grimace it triggers has Magus grinning to himself. So, Alec may have distracted Magnus just a tad whilst he was pouring, and the drinks may now be a little strong. Magnus raises his own tumbler, takes a sniff and then a gulp. Hmm, he’s made stronger. As he watches Alec grimace for a second time, though, Magnus wonders if he’s just developed a tolerance.

“It’s too strong?”

“No… No, it’s good.”

Alec’s clearly lying just to please Magnus and he could take pity on Alec and make a fresh drink. He probably should, but Magnus is too enthralled by the way Alec’s face crumples up each time he drinks; Alec’s nose scrunches up, and his eyes crease closed. It’s wonderful.

Magnus sits close on the sofa. The heat of Alec’s thigh bridges the infinitesimal gap between their bodies, so much so that it almost feels like they’re touching. Magnus searches through his mind for conversation. This isn’t like him. Usually he has words, but the atmosphere between them is electric and it stifles his ability to think. Alec licks a drop of liquid from his lips, and _that_ isn’t helping either.

Clearing his throat, Magnus tries to speak. “I’m so sorry about the mix-up with the dates.”

“Don’t be sorry. I actually picked up some good advice.”

“You did?” Magnus isn’t sure if this is Alec just being polite, but he decides to let it slide.

“Didn’t you?”

 _Oh, right._ Magnus was supposed to have been paying attention. He isn’t even sure he can remember the author’s name, which is no disrespect to the author. It’s just that once Alec had taken his hand, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything else.

Sheepishly Magnus tries to explain that to Alec.

“I’ve got no clue what that book was about.” Alec’s brow furrows and Magnus hastily continues, “I was too busy watching you enjoy yourself.”

The furrow eases and, flustered by Magnus’ words, Alec takes a drink.

It’s possibly too soon for Magnus to be saying things like this. It’s only been three dates after all, and the third is still in progress, but the words just tumble out without permission. At least they’re the truth. Magnus _had_ enjoyed watching Alec, the way his eyes narrowed in thought, the way he tilted his head to the left to listen, and the way he chuckled just under his breath. It’s a little disconcerting to realise he’s falling for Alec. It’s not the slow glide, a gentle progression of feeling that he’s used to. It’s more of a head-first collision, but somehow it feels exhilarating.

Magnus knows how he was after Camille, he dated a lot, but he never really allowed the dates to progress to a level where feelings became involved. Then, as if fate intended it, Alexander had been waiting in that elevator - just as Magnus was ready to try again.

As they finish their drinks the mood lightens. Magnus devolves into telling stories of Chairman Meow’s most famous heists, mainly because he loves the way Alec’s body comes into contact with his own each time he makes Alec laugh.

“It was just there on the bed,” he tells Alec, voice incredulous.

“A full chicken?”

“Well, not live of course, but yes, a whole cooked chicken. Let me tell you, that was alarming to come home to. He hadn’t even eaten it. I couldn’t tell if he was… like… offering it to me or something.”

Alec wipes at his eyes and his breaths are shallow.

“You never found out whose it was?”

“No. I still can’t work out how he even managed to get it into the apartment.” Magnus’ gaze roams the room. “I sealed up every single possible access point I could find and still he manages to break out.”

Over their second drink (much weaker this time), Alec tells Magnus that he knows exactly what it’s like to have a troublesome housemate. Alec’s expression becomes soft, but his eyes are alight with unadulterated affection as he speaks of Isabelle.

“She mistook salt for sugar.” Alec takes another sip of his drink, a gulp actually, and Magnus wonders if he’s still tasting that salt in his mouth. “A dozen cookies made with salt instead of sugar and we had to eat them.”

“I suppose it’s an honest mistake,” Magnus says, trying to give Isabelle the benefit of the doubt.

“She gave me food poisoning,” Alec explains.

“Again… I guess that could happen to anyone.”

“Three times.”

Okay, that’s pushing it.

“So, what I’m getting is don’t eat anything Isabelle cooks.”

“Ding, ding, we have a winner.”

Alec doesn’t correct him. Alec thinks that Isabelle trying to cook for him is something that might happen. That means that Alec fully intends for this relationship to get to the point where having dinner with Alec’s family is the norm, right? To meet Isabelle as the person Alec is dating, as opposed to a drink with friends as it had been last time. Perhaps Magnus is reading into this too much.

He contemplates it as he makes Alec another drink, though this one is more of a mocktail because he gets the feeling Alec doesn’t drink very often. With the thought of family dinners,  and the alcohol that’s giving him a light buzz, Magnus is suddenly bolder; he asks the question he’s been wondering for a while.

“Why did you move out?” Magnus enquires from across the room. “Besides the cooking, it seems like the two of you are very close. If you don’t mind my asking?”

Relief floods him as Alec shakes his head and gestures his ease with his hands. Alec likes to talk with his hands, especially when it’s a subject he’s passionate about, and Magnus loves to watch.

“She got engaged. That didn’t mean I had to move out, she didn’t like _push_ me out. If anything she’d probably love to have both me and Simon living with her forever.” Alec shrugs before continuing, “It was just time, you know?”

“You miss her?” Magnus hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but it has Alec’s eyes snapping to his.

“I still see her.” Alec’s words aren’t a denial and Magnus doesn’t miss it as he moves back across the room.

“But you miss her just being there.”

Alec’s voice is barely a whisper as he says, “Yeah.”

Magnus holds out the glass for Alec, and their fingers brush as Alec takes it from his grasp. The touch sends sensation skittering down Magnus’ arm as he sits. Alec’s still looking at him, lips parted, and if Magnus isn’t mistaken, that look is awe. Now Magnus is thinking about Alec’s lips again, about the last time they were against his, in the hallway after their second date.

The tension that has been mounting between them seems to ratchet higher as they watch each other. _Okay. This might be happening._ Alec’s hand is somehow resting on Magnus’ knee and Magnus has no clue how or when it got there. He doesn’t care. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, they edge closer together.

Barely a breath away from each other, Magnus feels his heart begin to beat wildly in his chest. Then Alec’s lips, soft and plush, press against his. Alec parts his lips, and Magnus sinks into him. It’s gentle and sweet but the desire inside of Magnus, the desire he feels every time he looks at Alec, is coiled tight and impatiently demands to be let loose.

Magnus twists, half kneeling on the sofa, and he brings both of his hands up to cup Alec’s cheeks. Something snaps inside of him and he just lets himself take. His mouth is insistent as the kiss becomes needy and bruising, as he swallows Alec’s gasps for breath with satisfaction.

Alec’s fingers grip Magnus’ forearms and he pulls Magnus closer, as if body against body isn’t close enough. It’s an assault to the senses and each taste Magnus gets just has him craving more. Will he ever be able to get enough of Alexander?

Magnus isn’t sure how long they kiss like that, seconds or maybe eons. It seems to be a blur of movement, yet, he feels like he could describe each touch, each brush of lips or tongue, and each grip in exquisite detail.

When they break apart, like a phantom, Magnus can still feel Alec’s lips against his own.

“Your cat’s staring at me,” Alec says and the rough timbre of his voice makes Magnus want to lie down and beg. That, and the delightful flush, that tells of Alec’s arousal, that’s staining his cheeks.

“Chairman?” Magnus doesn’t look, he only has eyes for Alec. “He’s got voyeuristic tendencies.”

The words just come out, because Magnus’s brain still feels fuzzy and he’s distracted too much by Alec’s lips to think about his words. Distracted even more by the way Alec’s mouth moves to form words. Also, why aren’t they still kissing?

Alec wipes a thumb across his lips, eases back onto the sofa, but his eyes stay on Chairman.

“Your cat’s got issues.”

And though the tension has now skyrocketed, Magnus grudgingly acknowledges that the moment is over.

-=-

“No treats for a week,” Magnus tells Chairman after he’s seen Alec out.

Magnus heaves himself down onto the sofa and Chairman tries to climb into his lap.

“No,” he tries to shoo the cat. “Go interrupt someone else’s romantic evening.”

Chairman just stares up at him, and Magnus’ willpower crumbles into dust. He can never stay mad at Chairman Meow for more than a few minutes.

“Fine,” he mutters, and Chairman settles in his lap.

Magnus isn’t really all that annoyed with his cat. It’s just, his body is frustrated and turned-on and it’s making him antsy. If he thinks with his brain instead of his dick he knows Chairman’s interruption is actually a blessing. This thing with Alexander feels as if it’s something special, and Magnus doesn’t want to rush it. He wants to take his time. He wants to enjoy it. He wants to get this right.

-=-

 _How does this always manage to happen?_ Alec ponders. It’s like Izzy’s superpower or something: the ability to talk Alec into doing things he would never in a million years sign up for. He’s sulking, he knows it, but he’s not even sure why Jace and him are here anyway. Surely Simon should be the person helping his fiancé to pick out the flowers for their wedding.

“I _told_ you, Simon had to work.”

Jace scoffs as they walk into the shop, earning himself a disapproving look. Alec just internalises his own scoff, but he feels it nonetheless. He should have thought quicker on his feet when Isabelle called him, but he’d already left the office. How was he to know she was about to spring an impromptu trip to a florist on him?

She should have asked Clary or Maia. What does Alec know about flowers? His eyes roam the shop and he suddenly realises that he knows very little about flowers. He never knew this many different types existed, most of them he doesn’t even recognise.

He takes a deep breath as they begin to walk down the rows. He can do this. He can just pick some, right? How difficult can it be?

Apparently, pretty difficult.

Every suggestion Alec gives is met with a glare. He knows he should stop making them, but Izzy keeps looking at him hopefully, and they keep just popping out. Why hasn’t he learned his lesson to just keep his mouth shut?

“What about these?” Alec proposes and he plucks a white carnation from the bucket of water. He’s proud he knows the name. Carnations are traditional, he thinks, so it seems like a safe choice. Plus, he’s sure he’s seen them at a wedding before.

“They’re a traditional funeral flower, Alec!” Isabelle hisses through gritted teeth.

 _Okay, his bad._ Alec hastily places the flower back, perhaps he should have done a little research before they came here. He could have done if Izzy had given him some notice.

“At least _I’m_ trying to help,” Alec pouts, he feels like he’s being scolded like a ten-year-old, so he might as well act the part. “Jace isn’t even paying attention. He’s just chatting up the cashier.”

Isabelle’s head swivels so quickly Alec wonders how she doesn’t crick her neck. Her eyes narrow and she goes storming off in Jace’s direction. _Phew._ Maybe that’s Alec’s superpower: deflecting. Lord knows he’s had enough years of practice.

Alec continues to walk along the long line of flowers. He really wants to help Isabelle make a good choice. He can’t exactly help it that half the flowers he thinks are pretty are actually bad luck or very untraditional for weddings. Alec pauses. _Beautiful_ , he thinks as he looks at the red bloom in front of him. The colour reminds Alec of those streaks in Magnus’ hair the first time he saw him. Lifting the blossom, he smells it and is surprised by the hint of citrus. His mind instantly goes to their last date, and the lemony drinks that Magnus had made. He did tell Alec what it was called, but for the life of him, he can’t seem to recall the name.

“You’re smiling!”

Isabelle’s voice, from Alec’s side, startles him. He thought she was still reprimanding Jace. Then he sees Jace next her, whose face is contrite.

Alec schools his own face into disinterest, hopes he pulls it off. Neither of them needs to know that he was thinking about Magnus, that everything seems to be causing him to think about Magnus. He swears he’s been walking around with the goofiest grin all week.

“Do I have to talk to this guy?” Jace asks.

Okay, so perhaps Alec was a little more obvious than he first thought.

“No!” Alec and Isabelle’s replies are instantaneous and identical.

Jace just raises his hands in a ‘fine-whatever’ gesture and rolls his eyes skyward.

“This is hopeless,” Isabelle tells them both, “Let’s go. I’ll bring Simon another time.”

Alec wonders if the real reason it is all so hopeless is because Simon couldn’t make it in the first place. He’s sure if Simon had picked up half the flowers Alec had, Izzy would have been sold.

As they walk down the street Alec threads Isabelle’s arm through his own. Jace strides ahead of them.

“It’s okay to want to make these decisions together,” Alec tells her.

Isabelle sighs in resignation. “I didn’t hide that very well did I? He’s so tied up with work at the moment and I understand. I just…”

“You want to plan your wedding together?”

Isabelle leans in to Alec, rests her head on his shoulder for a moment as they walk. Then she stands tall again.

“I do. He does too. We’ll rearrange.” Her voice is brighter. Her movements lighter. “Don’t hold my badgering to get you here against me?”

Alec shakes his head. As if he could ever hold anything against her. He’s never even been able to stay mad at her, and he’s tried.

“I’m happy you found someone too,” Isabelle says. When Alec glances at her, she’s beaming up at him, face full of pride and affection.

Alec shrugs. Talking about Izzy’s feeling is fine, but he’s not sure he wants to get into this conversation with her.

“We’ve been on three dates,” Alec pauses. “It’s nothing serious.”

But it feels as though it could be, and it’s equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

-=-

It’s strange. They live next to each other, but as Magnus knocks on Alec’s door he realises that he doesn’t have Alec’s number. He’s not certain how that happened, but it’s a bit of an annoyance. He tries not to overthink it. It’s just something they forgot to do. There’s no hidden meaning to it, though his mind endlessly tries to supply him with some.

Magnus waits a few minutes, then knocks for a second time. Alec isn’t here. He’s not sure what to do next. He can’t exactly just stand on Alec’s doorstep until he comes home, and he really needs to switch tomorrow’s date to a different evening. He’s torn on whether he should just continue to stand here, or go inside his own apartment and listen for Alec coming home.

“Are you waiting for me?”

Magnus twists on his heels to see Alec walking down the corridor.

“I might be.”

Alec doesn’t stop as Magnus assumes he will, he just leans into Magnus’ space and kisses him. It’s chaste, a quick hello, but still it makes Magnus’ heartbeat pick up its pace. He remembers how wonderful it is to kiss Alec, is so caught up in that memory that he completely forgets that he came by for an actual reason.

They’re still standing close, Magnus’ hand on Alec’s arm. He just wants to be touching Alec all the time.

“How am I supposed to shamelessly flirt with you every minute of the day if I don’t have your phone number?”

He was going for smooth, perhaps cheesy, but Magnus thinks that might have come off as needy. He doesn’t really care when Alec simply reaches into his back pocket and holds out his phone.

“I was meaning to ask,” Alec says.

“For shameless flirting? Why Alexander, you should’ve said something sooner.”

Magnus smirks, he knows he does, but he feels smug satisfaction with that line.


	9. Chapter 9

It turns out Alec likes to text, and Magnus knows he should have asked sooner. It’s surprising what he can learn about Alec this way. They’ve been dating for three weeks now, but Magnus feels like he’s barely scratched the surface in discovering who Alexander Lightwood is. That’s what makes the ride so exhilarating, the way he’s constantly learning something new. Take tonight, their fourth date, and Magnus now knows that Alec’s guilty pleasure is musicals.

As Magnus steps out of the shower (regrettably alone), he towels himself off. His phone chimes multiple times from the bedroom, but he dismisses it.

Dressing, he hears his phone again. He moves into the bedroom and walks over to his bedside table. When Magnus picks up his phone and reads the messages, he can’t stop the laugh that escapes or the broad grin on his face.

 

 **Alec 22/03/18 10:49 pm:** I had a nice time tonight

 **Alec 22/03/18 10:49 pm:** Not nice - I meant good

 **Alec 22/03/18 10:49 pm:** SHIT! I should have put great

 **Alec 22/03/18 10:49 pm:** or fantastic

 **Alec 22/03/18 10:55 pm:** CAN YOU JUST DELETE AND/OR IGNORE THOSE LAST FOUR TEXTS?

 

Magnus doesn’t hesitate as he puts together a reply, fingers flying over the keys.

 

 **Magnus 22/03/18 11:30 pm:** Too late! I also had a nice/good/great/fantastic time.

 

 **Alec 22/03/18 11:30 pm:** (See-No-Evil Monkey )

 

Alec’s immediate response has Magnus’s body shaking with laughter.

 

-=-

 

 **Magnus 24/03/18 9:43 am:** Is this yours?

 

Below the text is an image of Chairman Meow with a brown leather shoe clenched in his jaws. There’s a predatory look on Chairman’s face, as if to say  _mine, don’t touch._ Alec’s never had a cat, but he wonders if they’re all as crazy as Chairman. Is it a cat thing or is it a Chairman thing?

Alec takes another look at the photo. It doesn’t look like his. Although, there are several pairs of shoes in the bottom of his wardrobe that Isabelle bought for him, and Alec conveniently forgot about. He digs in the bottom of the closet but doesn’t find another shoe that matches.

 

 **Alec 24/03/18 9:45 am:** I don’t think so. Has Chairman moved on to a new mark

 

 **Magnus 24/03/18 9:46 am:** (Face With Open Mouth And Cold Sweat )  Don’t even suggest that!!! I’m hoping it’s Ragnor’s.

 

-=-

 

After an hour-long conversation with Catarina, Magnus hangs up the phone feeling happy. He loves having her in his life. He’s sure he spent most of the hour gushing about Alexander, but she didn’t stop him once. In fact, she kept asking for more details. She seems to be as giddy over the situation as he feels.

He glances at his phone to see four notifications from Alec. Magnus opens them, half expecting it to be something Jace did or Isabelle said, but his worry grows as he reads them.

 

 **Alec 25/03/18 7:25 pm:** are you in

 **Alec 25/03/18 7:25 pm:** it’s fine if you’re not

 **Alec 25/03/18 7:25 pm:** or if you’re busy

 **Alec 25/03/18 7:31 pm** : just forget about that

 

Magnus looks at the time on his phone: 8:08 pm. He doesn’t write a message back. Without hesitation, he gets up, grabs his keys, and walks next door.

The Alec that opens the door looks sad and bone weary. Magnus is instantly transported to a Sunday about a month ago when Alec had looked just like this. It’s the night Alec asked him out.

“Sorry. I was on the phone with Cat. Are you okay?”

Alec shrugs, in what Magnus thinks is embarrassment.

“Yeah,” Alec gestures Magnus inside, before the closing the door. “Sorry... I just- I felt like company.”

Magnus gets the feeling it’s a lot more than that, but he doesn’t know if he should push. This thing between them is new and developing and they’re still getting to know each other. Magnus would love to try to push through those walls Alec’s got up, but he can’t be certain that’s the right thing to do. What he does know is that he can give Alec what he needs: company. If, in the process, Alec decides he wants to share whatever is bothering him then that’s okay too.

Magnus fusses in Alec’s kitchen making hot chocolate for them both whilst Alec picks out a movie. Of course, Alec chooses a musical and they curl up under a blanket to watch.

Alec’s smile is full and genuine when Magnus leaves and Magnus praises himself for a job well done.

 

-=-

 

Alec checks his phone when he gets back from his Monday morning run with Jace. He feels a little silly about last night. He’s not sure what happened. The dinner with his parents had been terrible as usual. Why he went he doesn’t know.

There’s a message from Magnus, and Alec, for a moment, is scared to open it.

 

 **Magnus 26/03/18 6:59 am:** Starting my day off with this horror.

 

A photo of Magnus with Chairman resting on his chest fills Alec’s screen. Alec sucks in a breath. Magnus’ face is bare, his hair unstyled and he looks younger. The smile on Magnus’ face is broad and full of joy and Alec wonders what it would be like to wake up to that view.

Alec’s feeling a little courageous as he types his reply, and he takes a chance.

 

 **Alec 26/03/18 7:13 am:** Well I’m jealous

 

 **Magnus 26/03/18 7:13 am:** Can’t blame you.

 **Magnus 26/03/18 7:13 am:** Chairman Meow is quite the catch  (Face With Stuck-Out Tongue And Winking Eye )

 

Alec nearly chokes on the water he’s gulping down.

 

-=-

 

 **Alec 28/03/18 5:33 pm:** I think she’s trying to kill me.

 

That’s an ominous text to receive without any kind of explanation and Magnus stews over a reply for several minutes. Thankfully, he’s saved when another message comes through from Alec. It’s a picture of his kitchen, at least Magnus thinks it’s a kitchen. Every work surface is covered in either pots, utensils or mess, and there in the picture is Isabelle, brandishing what looks like a spatula at the camera.

 

 **Magnus 28/03/18 5:36 pm:** Do I need to send help?

 

 **Alec 26/03/18 5:37 pm:** There’s not enough help in the world to deal with this!

 

-=-

 

It’s only three pm but Magnus feels his energy waning. This week has been endless. The one thing that has gotten him through it is the thought of seeing Alec tonight. Magnus just doesn’t feel like he has the energy to go out, but he doesn’t want to cancel either.

 

 **Magnus 30/03/18 3:03 pm:** Can we just stay in tonight?

 

 **Alec 30/03/18 3:04 pm:** Sure  (Winking Face )

 

Magnus would absolutely love to take that opening and run with it because, honestly, there’s nothing he’d like more than to get his hands on Alexander. They’ve been dancing around each other, neither ready to go further than heavy petting. But Magnus is dead on his feet, and there’s no way he’ll be able to give Alec the level of attention he deserves.

Magnus loves court and he loves his job, but some weeks everything just piles up on him. He takes people’s cases because they need his help and they’ve got nowhere else to turn. Then he feels obligated to provide that help, and more often than not he ends up spreading himself a little too thin.

 

 **Magnus 30/03/18 3:05 pm:** As much as that sounds fun…

 **Magnus 30/03/18 3:05 pm:** (Sleeping Face )(Sleeping Symbol ≊ Zzz)

 

Magnus waits, sees the three dots that suggest Alec is writing something. Then they disappear, reappear again and finally a message comes through.

 

 **Alec 30/03/18 3:08 pm:** (Flushed Face )

 

That blushing emoji means that all Magnus can think about is the delightful way Alec blushes, the soft pink that floods his cheeks, and he dearly wants to see that. He wants to be the reason for that.

 

 **Alec 30/03/18 3:08 pm:** Of course. Long day?

 

 **Magnus 30/03/18 3:08 pm:** You have no idea.

 **Magnus 30/03/18 3:08 pm:** Long week!

 

It’s nothing a relaxing evening with Alec can’t fix.

 

-=-

 

Magnus wakes to a chime from his phone. He used to sleep with it on silent, but since this thing with Alec started he’s been leaving it on loud. He’s addicted to talking to Alec, be it in person or via text. He just wants to be with Alec, speaking to Alec, all the time.

 

 **Alec 02/04/18 6:13 am:** Jace is too hungover to run  (Nauseated Face )

 

There’s a photo of Jace leaning against a barrier and looking rather green. Alec’s face is just in the corner of the photo, clearly laughing at his brother.

 

 **Magnus 02/04/18 6:14 am:** Take pity on your brother.

 

 **Alec 02/04/18 6:15 am:** NEVER

 

-=-

 

Alec’s playing this ridiculously addictive arrow shooting game when his phone signals he’s got a message. It’s a good interruption, because he may have spent the whole hour he set aside for lunch on the game instead of eating. Oops.

 

 **Magnus 04/04/18 12:57 pm:** I have to read all this?!

 

Alec scrolls down and there’s a desk covered in stacks of papers, and wow. Alec knows Magnus’ job is a lot of work, but it’s always been an ‘in-theory’ kind of thing. He’s currently trying process that theory into reality and he thinks Magnus might be superhuman.

 

 **Alec 04/04/18 12:59 pm:** Please tell me not by tonight

 **Alec 04/04/18 12:59 pm:**...

 **Alec 04/04/18 12:59 pm:** I could help

 

That’s new, and Alec’s not sure if he would be any help at all, but he wants to offer. Alec’s not bothered about going out to restaurants or to the movies or whatever, he just wants to spend time with Magnus. He doesn’t care how.

 

 **Magnus 04/04/18 1:00 pm:** I doubt we’d get any reading done. I’ve seen you in those reading glasses.  (Nerd Face )(Fire )(Fire )(Fire )

 

Alec feels flushed. From a text. It’s probably got something to do with all that sexual tension they haven’t gotten around to resolving yet. Alec glances around the office but Clary and Maia are still talking. They pay him no attention and he thanks the gods.

 

-=-

 

 **Alec 06/04/18 9:15 am:** I hate my staff!  (Unamused Face )

 

The text makes Magnus laugh because Alec must have only been at work fifteen minutes. Surely they can’t have done anything to annoy him in such a short amount of time. The picture of an empty doughnut box and then another of two women with icing sugar around their mouths proves they can.

 

 **Alec 06/04/18 9:17 am:** They ate all the doughnuts!  (Doughnut )(Crying Face )

 

-=-

 

Alec’s pretty happy with his life at the moment. Perhaps Isabelle getting engaged was the best thing that ever happened. Otherwise, he never would have moved in here, or met Magnus. Again he’s thinking about Magnus, Alec spends all his time these days thinking of Magnus. He picks up his phone to send a text just as he receives one.

 

 **Magnus 08/04/18 11:31 am:** Saw this. It made me think of you.

 

There’s a picture of that self-help book from their third date and Alec’s face breaks out into a grin. He’s about to reply when three more messages come through, in quick succession.

 

 **Magnus 08/04/18 11:32 am:** Also. These two say hi.

 

Then there’s a picture of Ragnor and Cat. Alec’s never met them but Magnus has pointed them out in the photos he keeps around his place.

 

 **Magnus 08/04/18 11:32 am:** and they say that I should get off my phone and pay attention to them.

 

Their texting is silly. Alec knows that. But the days when he doesn’t get to see Magnus it’s his favourite thing.

 

-=-

 

Magnus has been in a terrible mood most of the week, and he knows the reason why. He and Alec keep missing each other. Alec’s got these last-minute preparations for a gala he’s holding and Magnus, well, Magnus has more or less been living at his office all week. He hasn’t seen Alec since their date on Saturday.

 

 **Magnus 12/04/18 7:52 pm:** How come we live next door to each other and I haven’t seen your gorgeous face once this week?

 

Magnus hopes the text comes off light, and not as pathetic as he actually feels. It’s kind of crazy how Alec’s become such a part of his life so quickly.

 

 **Alec 12/04/18 9:32 pm:** I freed up some time tomorrow night

 **Alec 12/04/18 9:32 pm:** after 7

 **Alec 12/04/18 9:32 pm:** if you’re free

 

Magnus pauses as he reads the text. Tomorrow is Friday - Cat’s birthday. Like he does every year, Magnus is throwing her a party. He wonders if he should invite Alec. Then he wonders if he should he have already invited Alec. Magnus decides to stop thinking about it and just ask. He really wants to see Alec, even if that means Magnus has to see him in a room of twenty guests. Beggars can’t be choosers.

 

 **Magnus 12/04/18 9:45 pm:** I’m throwing Cat a birthday party. But come. It starts at seven, at my place.

 **Magnus 12/04/18 9:46 pm:** Bring Isabelle if you want?

 **Magnus 12/04/18 9:46 pm:** And the elusive Simon.

 

Magnus waits for a response. The longer he waits the more time his mind has to come up with all the possible ways Alec can say no.

 

 **Alec 12/04/18 10:13 pm:** Izzy’s free. We’ll be there


	10. Chapter 10

The apartment feels full, as it often does when Magnus throws these kinds of parties. It’s not something that usually bothers him because he enjoys people and he loves hosting. Perhaps he’s less than enthused today because the person he wants most to see hasn’t arrived yet.

“He’ll be here,” Cat tells him, ever the keen eye. Magnus knows he can’t get anything by her.

“I know,” he replies.

“Then stop fretting.”

“I don’t fret.”

“You keep glaring at everyone that walks through the door when you realise they’re not Alexander.”

He doesn’t. _Does he?_

Cat’s voice isn’t harsh, if anything it’s filled with humour. He’d rather his friends didn’t enjoy his anxiety, there is nothing humorous about this situation.

“He’ll be here,” she tells him again, before leaving to talk to Luke.

Over the noise of conversation, Magnus watches as the door opens again. He holds his breath, waiting. He tells himself it’s okay if it’s not Alec but there he is. Alexander.

Magnus doesn’t finish his conversation, just walks away from whoever he’s speaking to. He’s rude, he knows he is, but it’s only Raphael. He’ll apologise later. Possibly. It’s more likely that he’ll conveniently forget.

Alec and Isabelle are still standing in the doorway when Magnus gets there.

“Hi,” Alec says when he sees Magnus.

“Hi,” Magnus can’t help but reply.

Then Alec is leaning in, placing a sweet kiss to Magnus’ lips and just like that, Magnus’ annoyance from a week-long separation bleeds away.

When Magnus pulls back, he feels steadier.

“Isabelle,” he greets and presses a kiss to her cheek. “I’m so happy you could join us.”

Magnus is about to ask if he can take their coats before he realises they’re not wearing any; it would be stupid to put on a coat to simply walk along a corridor.

“Let me introduce you to a few people,” he decides instead.

As he turns he notices that Cat, Raphael and Ragnor are all stood together. Their faces are the picture of innocence, but Magnus knows a setup when he sees one. He was hoping to introduce Alec individually, so as not to startle him all in one go, but he guesses it’ll  _have_ to be all in one go. He prays for luck and ushers them over.

“Alexander, Isabelle, this is Ragnor, Raphael and Catarina,” Magnus introduces with a flourish of his hand. Then he turns to face Alec and Isabelle. “This, is Alexander. His sister, Isabelle.”

There’s a moment, where Magnus waits with bated breath as they all look at each other.

Alec is the first to speak, “It’s Alec, and happy birthday.”

Alec holds out his hand to Cat, there’s a gift clutched there and Magnus wonders how missed that.

“You didn’t have to,” Magnus says before Cat can.

 _He did_ and _Suck up_ are mumbled by Ragnor and Raphael, but Magnus catches the words and glares at them. He told them they had to be on their best behaviour!

“Thank you, Alec.” Cat takes the gift from Alec’s hands. Magnus can tell by the way Cat’s eyes narrow she’s assessing Alec and Magnus suddenly wants to separate them. He knows now why he hasn’t done this sooner, because this is it. Make or break. If his friends really don’t like Alec then this can’t go anywhere, and Magnus likes Alec. Really likes Alec, and he really wants his friends to like Alec too.

“Let’s get you both a drink,” Magnus says and is thankful to have some space.

-=-

Alec’s glad he came, even if he only gets to spend a few minutes with Magnus in one go before Magnus dashes off to deal with something or greet someone. Each time Magnus is finished though, he comes right back, always checking Alec’s okay and comfortable.

Isabelle, being Isabelle, has made friends with Catarina and they’re over by the windows, probably talking fashion. Alec likes this: that his sister is getting along with Magnus’ friends.

Alec heads over to the kitchen to refill his drink. He stops just outside the door when he hears voices. He should probably go in or walk away, instead, he just stands there and listens.

“Please.” Alec thinks that’s Ragnor’s voice. “You’re almost married as it is.”

“They’re not even a couple.” That’s definitely Raphael.

Alec’s not sure who they’re talking about but he’s not all that comfortable eavesdropping on a private conversation. Clearing his throat, he makes sure his footsteps are loud as he pushes the door open.

“A technicality, although why you haven’t just-” Ragnor stops mid-sentence and the silence that follows is somewhat awkward.

Raphael looks from Alec to Magnus, rolls his eyes in disgust and says, “Can you just talk to him already, so I don’t have to listen to this anymore.”

It dawns on Alec that Ragnor and Raphael were talking about him and Magnus. Magnus is glaring at Raphael, his lips clenched together in annoyance.

“I’ll just…” Ragnor trails off, but grabs Raphael by the sleeve and drags him out of the room.

There's silence, only broken by the bickering of Magnus’ friends as they leave. Magnus is looking at the floor and Alec feels kind of sick. He won’t allow himself to jump to conclusions. Instead, he finds some bravery from somewhere.

“Talk to me about what?” he asks.

Magnus’ stance is uncomfortable. He’s playing with his ear cuff, a movement that always manages to distract Alec. Alec really wants to be clear-headed, so he takes a few steps, closing the gap between them. He reaches out for Magnus’ hand and takes it in his own. He’s not sure this is any better. Touching Magnus is just as distracting as watching Magnus.

Finally, Magnus looks at him.

“It’s been... what, about six weeks since we started dating?” Magnus says.

It’s six weeks, five days and one hour since Alec asked Magnus out, but who’s counting?

“I guess,” Alec shrugs.

“I just-” Magnus falters for a moment. “I’m not seeing anyone else.”

Alec’s confused for a minute but responds, “Neither am I.”

“I don’t want to see anyone else.”

Oh. _Oh!_ Does Magnus want to make this a thing? Does he want to make this official? Is this the relationship talk? Alec can’t get his words out fast enough.

“Neither do I.”

“So…” Magnus doesn’t say the words, they both know it.

“Yeah.”

It’s at that moment, with Magnus’ hand still in his, and stupid grins plastered on their faces that the door swings open and in walks Catarina and Isabelle.

“You made it official at last?!” Isabelle asks. Alec would normally roll his eyes at her, but he can’t be annoyed right now, he feels too happy.

“Made what official?” Magnus pleads ignorance.

Catarina leans against the door, eyes moving from Alec then to Magnus, a smile on her face as she speaks.

“You stopped pussy-footing around and decided to put a label on it, even though everyone else already knows you’re boyfriends. I think only the two of you didn’t realise.”

Catarina’s voice has this softness to it as she says the word boyfriends.

Magnus is still gazing at Alec, but now there’s this look on his face that Alec has never seen before. It’s as if Alec hung the moon and stars, as if Alec is everything.

Alec follows the movement as a nudge at Magnus’ left arm has him looking down. Chairman Meow is demanding to be stroked and both Alec and Magnus reach out to run their fingers through his fur.

“Boyfriends,” Magnus says, there’s an incredulity to his voice, “I guess we are.”

And it feels like the beginning of something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it to the end of this chapter, I just want to say a massive thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
